Rain Falling on Flowers
by Akatsuki210
Summary: A god and his angel, S rank criminals, broken war orphans. Pain and Konan are many things to many people, but to each other they will always be special. A collection of PainKonan drabbles, possible manga spoilers in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Naruto_ or any of its characters (really, do you think any of the Akatsuki would be dead if I did?).

**Warning:** This particular chapter doesn't have any spoilers for the manga, but later chapters may.

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_1. Love_

"It is not good for man to be alone." According to some legends, the deity who created the world spoke these words when he brought the first woman into being.

Pain watched Konan as she stood at the window, staring out at the never-ending rain. The pale light that filtered through the clouds made her look sickly, but he knew that nothing could be further from the truth. Konan had endured a great deal, had never been afraid to fight beside him, and had honed her humble paper weapons into tools of fearsome destruction. She was not only strong, but also gave _him_ strength by her unwavering loyalty. No matter how bad things got, Pain could always be sure of her reassuring presence at his side.

He closed the distance between them, standing behind her and brushing his fingers over the flower in her hair. "Konan," he said, "I've made a decision." His voice was hushed. There was no particular reason for him to whisper, but the room they were in was silent, and he felt that it would be a shame to break the quiet.

"About what?" Konan didn't turn to him; instead, she locked eyes with his reflection in the window.

"Now that I have undergone this change, I no longer feel that it's prudent to speak to our people directly. I don't want to risk anyone hostile learning my secret. Therefore, I need an intermediary. Someone to pass my decrees on to the shinobi under our command and convey their reports to me." He paused. What he was about to say next sounded melodramatic, but it was the best way to explain what he had in mind. "I need an angel."

She nodded slowly. He knew that she was considering the idea, and concluding that it was a wise one. "Who were you thinking of for this job?"

"You, of course," he said in a tone that suggested this was completely obvious.

She looked away, no longer gazing out into the rain. "Me, an angel?" He could see the expression on her face reflected in the window, but couldn't read it.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"Angels are...supposed to protect people. They swoop down from the heavens to save those who are worthy from terrible fates." She closed her eyes. "Someone who couldn't even save one of her best friends doesn't deserve to be called that."

"Don't say that!" Pain had forgotten his earlier resolve not to disturb the quiet atmosphere, and his voice echoed through the room. "It wasn't your fault, Konan. If anything, _I_ am the one who should accept the blame."

There were tears welling up in her eyes, and as he watched, a single tear slipped down her cheek. He could see that his words hadn't convinced her, and he knew that in addition to blaming herself, she believed that _he_ blamed her. He'd told her over and over again that he didn't, but she never seemed to accept it.

_I hate this. I hate seeing her like this. _Pain remembered how she had always tried to comfort him when he cried, back when he was just Nagato. _But what can I do? If she won't believe my words, what can I do to show her how important she is?_

Pain reached out and caressed Konan's face, gently wiping away her tears. There was a draft blowing in around the edges of the window, and Konan's skin was cool to the touch. Slowly, Pain leaned in and placed a soft, tender kiss on her lips.

Her eyes widened. "W...Why?" _Why do you call me an angel, when I'm just as flawed as anyone? Why are you showing me this kind of affection? Why, when it was __**my**__ weakness that led to my capture, and to Yahiko's death?_

"Because," Pain said simply, "it is not good for a god to be alone."

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**A/N: **I've been reading through a lot of PainKonan drabbles lately, and I've always liked the "twenty themes" or "fifty themes" format. So, I've decided to do a set of PainKonan drabbles based on either twenty or fifty themes. (I have fifty, but I don't know if I'll get good ideas for all of them.)

As always, reviews are welcome!


	2. Regret

**Disclaimer:** Same as before, don't own _Naruto_.

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_2. Regret_

"Do you ever regret this?"

It's late at night, and Konan is lying in Pain's arms. A steady drumbeat of rain pounds on the roof of their tower, and occasional flashes of lightning illuminate the room. There's a contemplative tone in Konan's voice, and he's not sure what she's speaking of. Does she mean his transformation from a human into a god, or his transformation from Nagato into Pain?

In the end, it doesn't really matter, because both questions have the same answer. Beneath the tumult of the rain, Pain's shinobi hearing can pick up the sounds of Amegakure's citizens going about their nightly business. He hears the hurrying footsteps of people eager to get out of the downpour, the laughter of friends walking home in a group, the conversations of shopkeepers closing up for the night, and one man trying to sing the Ame no Kuni National Anthem while utterly plastered.

What he does _not _hear are explosions, screams, the weeping of the bereaved.

He turns his head to the side, looking directly into Konan's amber eyes. "No," he answers.


	3. Hate

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own it.

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_3. Hate_

Despite the wars that raged across the Land of Rain, Nagato never hated the other countries until Yahiko's death. There was _resentment_, to be sure, but resentment is not the same as hatred. When he saw Yahiko's lifeless body collapse to the ground, when Konan's anguished shouts rang in his ears, when Danzou lifted his arm to usher his ANBU minions forward with a smug expression on his face, Nagato's vision darkened. He had often heard intense rage described as "seeing red," but for him the color that overwhelmed his sight was the featureless black of a night sky without stars. In that instant, all he wanted was for the men before him to share the pain he felt.

The ground beneath him trembled faintly, then began to shake more violently, and finally split open as a grotesque monstrosity rose from it. The members of Nagato's faction would later argue over whether the thing had been made of wood or flesh, but they all agreed that that they'd never seen anything like it before, and that they fervently hoped they'd never see anything like it again.

When black rods of an indeterminate material shot out from the Gedo Mazo's form and sunk themselves into Nagato's back, the blackness in his mind seemed to deepen, and a sense of immense power came with it. The desire to inflict his own suffering back on those who had caused it was coupled with a knowledge that he _could_. He understood on a subconscious level what the construct he was now linked to could do, and his commands to it were almost instinctive. Without precisely thinking the words or articulating any commands, he made the Gedo Mazou open its mouth and send forth a tongue made of chakra. It swept across Hanzou and Danzou's assembled lackeys, and violently ripped out the souls of whoever it touched. Some of them threw weapons or jutsu at the Gedo Mazou, but everything bounced off it without doing the slightest bit of harm. A few, Danzou included, were smarter, and targeted him instead. Their attacks were just as ineffective, though, as he repelled projectiles and absorbed jutsu. Some men charged him, and the Gedo Mazou crushed them beneath wickedly clawed hands and feet.

No matter how many of his enemies fell before his newfound might, it wasn't enough. Something had broken inside him at Yahiko's death, spilling forth a desire for retribution that couldn't be sated. Even when Hanzou teleported away and left his remaining comrades behind to die, even when Danzou fled before a whirlwind of razor-sharp paper that cut his subordinates to ribbons and turned their own exploding tags against them, the pain that filled him didn't diminish.

The pain remained after the Gedo Mazou disappeared. It remained as he and Konan carefully prepared Yahiko's corpse for use as Nagato's surrogate body. It remained as their faction mourned the people they'd lost and laid plans to bring down Hanzou for good.

During the long hours he spent recuperating from the damage summoning the Gedo Mazou had done to his body, he realized that the agony he felt wasn't just sorrow. Thinking about Hanzou, Danzou, and the nations that used Ame no Kuni as their battlefield made that black curtain descend over his vision again, and he recognized the feeling as _hatred_. It hurt, but he embraced the pain, remembering the incredible strength it had granted him during the terrible fight that had followed Yahiko's death. And when he walked forth in Yahiko's body, with Konan by his side, it resonated in his voice and animated his every gesture. When he spoke to the Rain shinobi, he saw the same inky darkness moving behind their eyes, because they had all lost family and friends to the wars that plagued their country.

A fire black and terrible as Amaterasu fueled him, and as he stood on a rooftop overlooking his village, he knew that he would not rest until he had used that fire to scour the world clean.


	4. Silence

**Disclaimer:** If I owned _Naruto_, do you really think Itachi, Pain, Konan, Jiraiya etc. would be dead?

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_4. Silence_

Nagato has withdrawn his presence from the Six Paths, existing for now solely in his original body. Little noise penetrates to this room, on the deepest subterranean level of Rain's central tower. Konan sits on the stone floor, her back resting against the apparatus that sustains his true form. The pure-white paper in her hands folds and unfolds itself over and over as she practices her craft. She experiments with new shapes, and he watches the novel creations become more sophisticated with each iteration.

After a while, the paper takes on its most familiar form: the first one she learned how to make, and the one that he sees every day. She reaches up and holds the single white rose out to him. Nagato's arm trembles, and a dull ache radiates from the places where the chakra rods have pierced his flesh, but he's able to move his hand just enough to take the flower. The paper is cool against his palm, and he smiles at this token of affection.

They've been spending a great deal of time like this lately, away from prying eyes and with the masks of the Paths dropped. They rarely speak to each other when they're together like this, but neither of them minds. After passing most of their day in the bustle and clamor of the city above, the silence that permeates this secret place is refreshing.

Nagato doesn't need to ask Konan for an affirmation of how she feels about him, because the flower in his hand provides the answer. Nor does she need to ask him, because the fact that she's the only one allowed into this inner sanctum says more than words ever could.

They've been hardened by years of war, and neither would ever allow such sappy words as "I love you" or "You're a precious person to me" to pass their lips. But in these silent moments, they find ways to say the words without saying them.


	5. The Past

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it.

**Warning:** Manga spoilers in the A/N at the end, though not in the story itself.

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_5. The Past_

Despite her exhaustion, Yanagi smiled as the healthy wails of her newborn son reached her ears. She looked up, and saw her husband beaming down at her. "He's beautiful," he told her, stroking her sweat-soaked hair gently. "I think-" Whatever he had been about to say was interrupted by a gasp of shock from the attending medic-nin.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"This isn't possible," the medic-nin whispered. "It's just not..."

Yanagi pushed herself upright in her hospital bed. "_What's wrong?_"

The medic-nin turned to her, placing the tiny, squealing bundle in her arms. "I'm not sure anything's _wrong_, it's just...well, look at his eyes..."

Yanagi cradled her son, holding him close and murmuring softly. Slowly, his crying trailed off into a few sniffles. His eyes, which had been squeezed shut, opened, and Yanagi found herself mimicking the medic's stunned gasp. She'd heard legends about these eyes, folktales that her grandparents had told her when she was a little girl. The eyes of the gods, eyes with the power to renew or destroy the world, eyes before which mortals could do nothing but bow down in awe.

"The Rinnegan," she breathed, seeing her own amazement mirrored on her husband's face. "Our son has the Rinnegan."

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**A/N:** There's been a lot of speculation about what Madara meant when he said that he "gave" Nagato the Rinnegan. The most obvious theory is that Madara came into possession of a pair of Rinnegan eyes somehow and implanted them into Nagato, in which case this drabble would be AU. However, I've also seen theories that Madara's involvement was more indirect-for example, that Nagato was born with the Rinnegan, but Madara manipulated circumstances so that Nagato would awaken their full power. Another suggestion I've heard is that Madara may have manipulated things over the course of decades to lead to the birth of a child with the Rinnegan (making sure that a man and woman with some Uzumaki/Senju blood met, for example, and doing this for several generations in a row so that eventually the bloodline that Madara had "guided" produced Nagato). So depending on what exactly Madara meant by his statement there, this could be canon-compliant or not.


	6. Fear

**Disclaimer:** I _wish_ I owned Pain and Konan, but I don't.

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_6. Fear_

"Pain has never lost a battle," Konan tells Madara, and this is true. Since the moment when Yahiko died, which is also the moment when Nagato died, Pain has always been victorious. No enemy, however skilled, has been able to stand against him. This holds true for both spies and traitors within their own village, and for assailants from outside their borders.

It's not just Pain's flawless record that holds Amegakure-and even Konan herself-in awe, however. It's the sheer ease with which he executes his triumphs. His moves are fluid and graceful, and he uses no more energy than is absolutely necessary. His face is most often blank: even when dealing with a traitor, he rarely displays open anger. When Hanzou's faction still existed, they whispered his name in hushed tones, trying to suppress shivers of fear at the thought of his overwhelming power.

Pain knows that this fear is a weapon, and he wields it as expertly as a sword. He destroys all those who oppose him swiftly, without hesitation or mercy, and lets word of those deeds spread through the village to any others who might be thinking rebellious thoughts. _This is the vengeance of your god_, his actions say, _for you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting._

For his own part, Pain never betrays any apprehension, no matter how powerful his opponent. Whether he's facing Jiraiya, or Hanzou, or an entire squad of ANBU, he remains completely calm, giving the impression of being in control of the battle the whole time.

Konan knows that he _does_, in fact, feel such things as fear and sorrow. She can see it on the face of Nagato's original body, hidden deep within Rain's central tower. She knows that the deaths of the other Akatsuki members, and the knowledge that someday their goals and Madara's will clash, bother him. She also knows that no one but her will ever see this, and she understands why.

Fear is a weakness, and gods must never be weak.


	7. The Future

**Disclaimer:** I'm not Masashi Kishimoto, and thus don't own _Naruto_.

**Warning:** This chapter includes manga spoilers.

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_7. The Future_

The Retired Hachidaime Amekage walked down the path to the small shrine, placing one foot carefully in front of the other. At the age of one hundred and two, her balance was quite shaky and she needed to lean heavily on her cane to avoid stumbling on the uneven stones.

Although she no longer held the highest office in the land, she still usually had one or two ninja bodyguards trailing nervously behind her, but she had dismissed them back at the city walls. She meant to make this trip alone.

The shrine was unique in lying outside of Amegakure proper, on a narrow peninsula that jutted out into the inland sea their village was built over. It had originally been a small shack, barely large enough to contain a table and a few bedrolls. The original builder had painted it bright red, but the relentless rain had faded the color away over time, so that it had been the dull color of dried blood when its most famous inhabitants lived there. Now, of course, the original paint color had been restored, and many flowers had been planted in the small yard out in front.

A young acolyte was tending the flowers, and he quickly covered his surprise when he saw her approaching alone. He offered her his arm and helped her step up over the threshold. Inside, the tiny building was cool and quiet. An older monk was poking at a small brazier of incense in the center of the floor. "Could you please leave me alone for a few minutes?" she asked him.

"Of course, Retired Hachidaime-sama." The monk and acolyte left, and she hobbled around the brazier to the rear wall of the shrine.

There, in the center of the wall, were the three placards. They were the same red as the outside of the shrine. Flowers, various origami creations, and other offerings were lined up below the placards where earlier visitors had left them.

After Konan's death, there had been vigorous debate among the jounin as to whether the Central Tower where she and Pain had resided should be searched for any information or weapons that might be useful in fighting Madara. Some had protested that the Tower was a sacred place that they had no right to violate, while others pointed out that they would need every advantage they could possibly get their hands on to avoid dying when they faced the enemy that even God and his Angel had been unable to defeat. In the end, they had decided that Pain _probably_ wouldn't smite them if they searched through whatever was stored in the Tower for the express purpose of protecting his beloved home. They had indeed found a treasure trove of useful information and powerful kinjutsu, but they had also found things that were useful only as mementos of their leaders. Among them were a copy of a book called _The Tale of a Gutsy Ninja_ and a photograph of the building that was now the shrine, with the word "home" scrawled on the back. After the war, the shinobi of Ame had realized that this humble, dilapidated shack was where Pain and Konan had once lived, and had turned it into a place to honor the memory of the man and woman who had changed their country forever.

"You'll forgive me if I don't kneel," the Retired Hachidaime said in a quiet but steady voice. "I'm afraid my knees aren't what they used to be. Nor is much of anything else, for that matter." Before retiring, she had been Ame's foremost medic-nin, and she knew a lost cause when she saw one. Her body had chugged along mostly reliably for over a century, but it was inevitable that eventually something inside it would break to a degree that couldn't be fixed.

She reached out one hand and brushed her fingers against the placard on the left. "I saw you once, you know. It was a long time ago, when I was just a little girl. I'd already decided that I wanted to be a ninja, like you and Konan-sama, but...it's really that memory that kept me going when things were really hard. When I was exhausted from training, or scared to death on a mission that I didn't know whether I'd come back from...I remembered you, and thought that I didn't want to disappoint you. I wanted to be worthy of being one of Pain-sama's shinobi."

She turned now to the placard on the right, and placed her hand on that one as well. "And you...you were such an inspiration. Not just to me, to every kunoichi in the village. We all wanted to be like you." She smiled. "When I was fifteen, I dyed my hair blue and Kaa-san had a fit. I told her I'd done it to honor your memory, and she got all quiet. I think she was worried, because of how dangerous it is to be a shinobi. She knew that better than anyone, she would have died before I was born if not for you and Pain-sama. But then she said, 'Ikeuchi, I know you're fifteen and won't listen to your parents or your sensei, because no fifteen-year-old does. But if you've chosen just one adult to follow, and that's Konan-sama, then at least I won't worry _too_ much, because I'll know you've got a good role model.' You meant so much, Konan-sama."

She didn't touch central placard, but stared at it for a long time before saying, "I've heard Kaa-san and Tou-san talk about you. They said that you were the one who started Akatsuki, that you had the power to reach into men's hearts and change what was there. They said that even Pain-sama and Konan-sama looked up to you. And they said that you gave your life because you honestly believed in peace. You were a true leader, Yahiko-sama. I can only hope that I've been half as good a leader to the people of my country as you were."

A tremble ran through the Retired Hachidaime's muscles and she slumped to her knees. She brushed a few flowers out of the way and sat down, leaning her back against the wall below the placards. There was a window along one wall, and the shutter was propped open to give a clear view of the western side of Amegakure. "It's such a beautiful place now," she said in an even softer voice than before. "The sunlight's glittering on the water-I can count on one hand the number of times I saw that before the Last Great Shinobi War ended. There's all kinds of pennants and banners on the towers, fluttering in the wind. There are stalls set up in the market, with people selling pretty much everything you can think of. There's children running through the streets and laughing, couples going up on the rooftops to watch the sunset together, old men and women like me sitting on their porches and drinking warm sake. There are always merchants from the other nations coming and going. We've sent a few experts with a joint expedition by Mist and Stone to see what lies beyond the Great Eastern Ocean. One of my students just developed a jutsu that regenerates severed limbs. There isn't as much need for that as there was in the past, of course, since there are so few battles now, but I expect it will be a godsend for people who were injured in accidents. Oh, and the new Hokage's visiting. Uchiha Something-or-Other, I don't remember his first name. My memory for recent events isn't what it used to be, either."

A gentle breeze drifted through the window, ruffling the Retired Hachidaime's robes and carrying the perfume of the flowers outside. "I suppose I'll get a chance to tell you all about what our country's like now in a few minutes, when I see you. But I just wanted to come here and let you know..."

The Retired Hachidaime's eyes slipped closed, and the last few words went unheard, at least by any mortal ears.

_...that your dream has finally come true._

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**A/N:** The little girl who eventually grows up to be the Retired Hachidaime of this story appeared in a couple of my earlier fics, "The Pure of Heart" and "Senbazuru." She was meant to be about eight in "The Pure of Heart," which takes place right after Jiraiya's death, so this drabble is set 94 years post-series.

I've got a rough draft of the next drabble done, so hopefully it'll be up soon.


	8. Admiration

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it.

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_8. Admiration_

All the citizens of Amegakure treat Konan with the utmost respect, but the kunoichi have a special reverence for her. They point to her as living proof that a woman can be just as fierce and powerful a warrior as a man, and model themselves after her. They mimic her in superficial ways: they pierce their lower lips, or dye their hair blue, or tuck white flowers behind their ears. But they emulate her in deeper ways as well. They watch her join Pain on the battlefield, and refuse to hide behind their male comrades. They see her cut throats with paper kunai and shuriken, and don't shy away from killing their enemies. They watch her turn her face up to the eternal rain, eyes closed and a tiny smile on her face, and know that they're part of something greater than themselves.

Civilian women draw strength from her too. The years of war haven't been kind to them, but when they see Konan, they find reserves of resilience within themselves that they didn't know they had. Every woman violated by one of the enemy's soldiers, every wife whose body rejected a pregnancy because there wasn't enough food to keep that second life going, every mother who's stood weeping before a son or daughter's funeral pyre, looks to Konan and sees hope embodied in her. They see her clear eyes, her straight back, her determined expression, and know that here is one woman who hasn't given up, who _won't_ give up until their world is transformed into something better.

Sometimes Konan is unnerved by the intensity of their admiration. Unlike Pain, she isn't comfortable being worshipped. She knows that she's not the flawless, perfect being they portray her as. She has fears and doubts, even if her followers will never see them. But she also knows that everything she's doing is for them, that the grand plan to tear down the world and rebuild it is for their sake. So whatever they need to get them through the time before that plan comes to fruition, she'll give them. If what they need is an angel, then that's what she'll be.


	9. Joy

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own _Naruto_.

**Warning:** This drabble is fleshing out a flashback scene from the manga that hasn't been animated yet, so there are some spoilers here.

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_9. Joy_

Yahiko winced as Konan wound the bandages tightly around his chest. "Sorry," she said, "but a couple of your ribs are cracked, and they won't heal properly if we don't hold them in place."

"I know," he replied. He chuckled, then winced again at the twinge of pain in his ribs. "I must look really silly like this. Like a mummy or something."

Konan had to admit that there was a bit of a resemblance. Yahiko's chest and left arm were almost completely covered by bandages, and there was even gauze wrapped around his head. His orange hair stuck up irregularly around it, making him look like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket. "You should be more careful," she admonished him. "You could have been..." Her words trailed off as she leaned forward to secure the bandages at Yahiko's shoulder. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart, and Konan realized that she'd never noticed before just how much his blue eyes sparkled. She'd made sure to carefully clean all of his wounds, so he smelled like soap, and his skin was smooth and warm under her fingers.

They stayed like that for a few moments, just looking into each other's eyes. Very slowly, Yahiko leaned forward, until his lips were just barely touching Konan's. He drew back and watched her closely, waiting for her reaction. When she stayed silent, he hastily said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just-"

"No, it's alright," she said. "It wasn't uncomfortable at all. Actually, it was...kind of nice." She blushed and turned her face away.

_She said it was nice! She didn't mind! She __**liked**__ it!_ Yahiko felt like jumping up and down and cheering. _Okay, so...__**now**__ what do I do? Maybe I should ask her if she wants me to kiss her again?_

He was about to do just that, when Konan suddenly turned back to him and pressed her lips forcefully to his. When she pulled away, he stared at her with a stunned expression. _She kissed me! __**She**__ kissed __**me**__!_

"Um," he said. "Um. That was...I mean, I really..." Yahiko tried to think of something suitably profound and romantic to say, but his brain appeared to have shut itself off.

Konan giggled. "I'm glad you liked it." Her expression turned serious, and she added, "You're a wonderful person, Yahiko."

"So are you! You're really pretty, and smart, and a good fighter, and...and...and I really, really like you." The last few words came out in a rush. Yahiko took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and asked, "Do you want to kiss again?"

Konan nodded solemnly, and her answer was barely a whisper. "Yes."

Yahiko leaned in again, and only one thought went through his mind: _I think maybe I love her._


	10. Desire

**Disclaimer:** Would Pain and Konan be dead if I owned _Naruto_? I don't think so.

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_10. Desire_

Sometimes, she wonders if it's wrong for her to feel like this. If it's wrong for her to slip Pain's cloak off his shoulders, run her hands through his spiky orange hair, nestle into his embrace in the dark hours of the night. Sometimes she thinks that this is a betrayal of what she and Yahiko had, of what she and Nagato never had a chance to have. And she wonders if it's futile, trying to express love and initmacy in a world so full of violence and hate.

None of these thoughts, however, stop her from running her fingers gently over Pain's cheek. They don't stop her from allowing him to push her down on their bed, from reaching up to help him when he has trouble undoing the buttons that hold her shirt on. They don't stop her from forming a delicate pair of paper wings to enfold both of them, enclosing them in a soft cocoon.

She's well aware that the chance of failure is high. Some villages may hate and fear their jinchuuriki, but they're forced to grudgingly acknowledge them as useful weapons, and won't easily allow them to be taken away. Beyond that, there's Madara, whose true agenda is mysterious. The years of civil war-and above all, Yahiko's death-have forced her to come to terms with uncertainty. She doesn't shy away from thinking about the fact that this could end just as abruptly as her relationship with Yahiko. And she's come to a decision: she will put aside any doubts and any sense of guilt, and make this last for as long as she can.

"Konan?" Pain's voice is inquisitive as he reaches up to take the flower out of her hair and undo her bun. He knows that if she doesn't want this now, she'll gently push his hand aside, and he'll exit the room silently, going to attend to some task elsewhere in the tower. She doesn't, and he carefully sets the flower down on a windowsill. He places two fingers under her chin and tilts her face upward, then lowers his lips to hers.

She knows that this could end at any moment, that despite all their careful planning, everything might still come crashing down around them. And she still isn't sure whether this is really love, or only comfort and the indulgence of memories. But whatever it is, she won't give it up without a fight, and as Pain whispers her name in her ear, she knows that he won't either.

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**A/N: **I heard John Mayer's song "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" on the radio the other day, and started writing this while I was listening to it.


	11. Darkness

**Disclaimer:** Eleven chapters later, I still don't own _Naruto_.

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_11. Darkness_

Looking through the Human Realm body's eyes, Pain saw the flares of chakra indicating combat not far off. As he approached them, he heard a cry of fear and pain, followed by the sound of a weapon clattering to the ground.

Turning a corner, Pain came upon the source of the disturbance. A boy of about twelve or thirteen years old was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, his sword beside him on the ground. He was cradling his right hand, which looked red and swollen. The boy was familiar to Pain: it was Hanzou's nephew Ikezu. Standing in front of him was one of the shinobi from Pain's faction, whom Pain recognized as a sixteen-year-old suiton user named Aoki. He was wearing an ANBU uniform, but his mask was gone, probably broken in some earlier battle. Aoki was holding his kusari-gama in a position that indicated he had just retrieved the weight after throwing it. He was twirling that weight at the end of its chain, clearly ready to throw it again at a moment's notice. It was easy enough to see what had happened: Aoki had just used the weight to disarm the other boy and smash his hand. Most shinobi of chuunin level or above were ambidextrous, specifically so that they wouldn't be helpless if the hand they favored was disabled somehow, but Ikezu clearly hadn't mastered that skill yet. To tell the truth, he didn't look like he'd been out of the Academy for more than a month or so.

"Please," Ikezu called out to his opponent, "I surrender!"

Aoki scrutinized Ikezu and seemed to come to the same conclusion that Pain, watching from the shadows, had already reached: this was a genuine offer of surrender, not a ploy to make Aoki let his guard down or turn his back.

Aoki watched Ikezu for a few more moments, then stopped twirling the weight of his kusari-gama. "Get out of here," he said harshly. "Get out of this village, and don't come back."

"Y-Yes, ANBU-san!" Ikezu scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to pick up his sword.

Pain stepped out into the street, using shunshin to appear behind the boy in an instant and cutting off his retreat.

Aoki's eyes widened. "Pain-sama!" He stood to attention, but didn't bow, unwilling to lower his eyes from his surroundings in the middle of what was still a war zone.

"That boy is Hanzou's nephew," Pain told him.

Aoki blinked. "Yes, sir, I know. But he's surrendered, and I don't think he'll be causing us any more trouble."

"He's surrendered because he's terrified," Pain said. "And with his hand shattered like that, he couldn't fight you even if he wanted to. But what do you think will happen if you let him go? His body will heal, his terror will fade, and when it does, it will be replaced by fury. It is not enough to kill Hanzou himself, for if we do only that, his family and subordinates will seek revenge. They will kill some of us, and we will of course seek revenge in our turn, and the cycle will continue. The only way to break that cycle and bring peace to Amegakure is for one side to win completely, and for the losing side to be totally _erased_. Not a single trace of Hanzou must be left if this country is to start anew."

"What do you mean?" Ikezu asked, his voice rising in pitch. "I won't come after you, I-I swear! And anyway, _he's _the one who defeated me, it's _him _who gets to decide whether I live or die, and he said I could go!" He turned back to Aoki with a pleading look in his eyes. "Isn't that right, ANBU-san? Isn't that how our Ninja Code works?"

Rain dripped from Aoki's hair as his eyes flicked back and forth between Pain and Hanzou's nephew. "My squad captain died today," he said in a voice so soft that it could barely be heard over the pattering of the rain. "One of my teammates is so badly wounded that she might follow him. I...I don't want that to be for nothing. I _can't_ let it be for nothing. When we bring peace to this village, we've _got_ to make it last." His hand shook, then steadied, clutching his kusari-gama so tightly that the knuckles were white. "We've got to do whatever it takes." He repeated the words again, even more softly. "Whatever it takes."

Pain nodded. _Whatever it takes._ That was the decision he'd come to as his six bodies wandered Amegakure in the wake of Hanzou's death. The leader of the opposing faction might be dead, but fighting still raged between his subordinates and Pain's. "Vanish, Hanzou," he had said. Before, he had thought that killing Hanzou would be enough to make that happen, but now he knew better. The idea that killing Hanzou himself would be enough to erase his influence from the village was a child's thinking, the naivete of one who didn't know true pain. _I am not that child anymore. The only way to make Hanzou vanish is to destroy everything he's touched, everything he's influenced, and all those who might seek vengeance in his name. _He reached out and placed one hand on top of Ikezu's head. He noted that Aoki, to his credit, wasn't looking away.

Impressions from Ikezu's mind flooded his own as Human Realm's ability activated.

_I don't want to die!_

_What is this-_

_Damn you, Uncle! This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you!_

_Is he reading my mind?_

_**Why?**_

Pain allowed the telepathic connection to reverse briefly, and sent one of his own thoughts into the boy's mind. _Because Amegakure will never know lasting peace until every trace of Hanzou has vanished from this world. That is the price that must be paid._ He thought about saying _I'm sorry_, but when he searched his heart, he found no regret there. In one smooth motion, he drew his hand back, extracting Ikezu's soul from his body. He opened his hand, and the softly glowing mass of chakra drifted away into the rain.

"Aoki-san, Squad Seventeen is having some trouble. Go and help them."

Aoki nodded wordlessly, then sprinted up the wall that bordered the sidewalk and vaulted over the top. Pain turned back the way he'd come, leaving the body of Hanzou's nephew on the ground behind him.


	12. Hope

**Disclaimer: As of last time I looked in the mirror, no one had turned me into Masashi Kishimoto.**

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_12. Hope_

He remembered when hope had been born.

Jiraiya had looked down at him, with a solemn expression on his face so unlike his usual demeanor, and told him that he believed in the possibility of peace. And Nagato believed him, because his teacher was so strong and so kind and had seen so much of the world, that whatever he said had to be right.

* * *

He remembered when hope had died.

With the training Jiraiya had given them, they had triumphed over every enemy they fought, and as their fame grew, they gathered a cohort of like-minded ninja around them. They drove out the foreigners who wished to use the Land of Rain as a staging ground for their own battles, and they arrived at their decisions by consensus, in stark opposition to Hanzou's iron-fisted rule. They showed the citizens of Amegakure that there was a better way to live. As the years went by, they found more and more people becoming receptive to their message. In time, they even began to hear rumors that Hanzou himself was considering a treaty with their faction.

They thought they had won. They thought they had proved that Jiraiya was right: that there _was_ a way for former enemies to come to an understanding. As ninja, they really should have been more suspicious. They should have thought of the possibility that this might be a trap.

But Jiraiya's talk of peace had blinded them all, and so they didn't see what Hanzou was planning. And the cost had been terrible. It had been the heart and soul of their group, the glue that held everyone else together.

It had been Nagato's sanity, and Konan's love, and Akatsuki's purpose.

* * *

He remembered when hope had been reborn.

He hadn't thought of Jiraiya much over the years since the Toad Sannin had left them. He'd been too busy defeating Hanzou, rebuilding Amegakure, and administering Akatsuki to wonder about what Jiraiya went on to do. Besides, Jiraiya had proved that his ideals were false, so why should he waste his time thinking about what such a fool might be doing now? It had never occurred to him that Jiraiya might have taken on other students, students who would absorb the same ideals he'd communicated to the three of them. But here was one such student, and he reminded Nagato so much of Yahiko that it made his heart ache. The squared shoulders, the fierce determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw, they were _all_ Yahiko's.

At first, Nagato had scoffed at this new student of Jiraiya's. If he clung to Jiraiya's teachings, it was only because he had never faced the kind of hardship that Nagato and Konan had. He had never had to endure true pain, for if he had, he would have seen all Jiraiya's words for the empty stupidity they were.

But a part of him knew that wasn't true. This boy had grown up an orphan, just like the three of them. Because of what was inside him, he had been hated and ignored by those who might otherwise have eased his burden by becoming his friends. He had seen people he cared about die, and his best friend had left him behind. And now he stood in the wreckage of his village, knowing that dozens or hundreds of his countrymen had just been killed. Yet still, despite all that, the determination and the hope that Nagato had once seen in Yahiko's eyes continued to shine in this boy.

Naruto _had _faced hardship, he _had_ known true pain, and it hadn't broken him. On the contrary, it had made him stronger than ever. Not just in terms of his ability to cast ninjutsu or hold his own in hand-to-hand combat, but in another way as well.

Revenge had a terrible attractive power; Nagato knew that all too well. Naruto could easily have succumbed to that when he saw how Nagato had murdered two of his teachers and leveled his home to the ground. Somehow, he hadn't. He had resisted that pull and refused to let the darkness that had consumed Nagato's soul for so long take root in his own.

And if he could do that, then maybe it w_as_ possible for people to put aside the grudges of the past and understand each other.

If he could do that, then maybe Jiraiya had been right.

Maybe there w_as_ hope after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry I haven't updated this story in so long! I lost inspiration for a while, but it has now returned.


	13. Death

**Disclaimer: **If I owned _Naruto_, all this stuff would be canon, not fanfic.

**Warning:** Manga spoilers ahoy.

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_13. Death_

_Oh, you fool. You stupid, __**stupid**__ fool._

Konan lay on her back in the water, watching the remnants of six hundred billion explosive tags drifting down around her like autumn leaves. Her vision was blurry, and the wound that Madara had opened in her torso throbbed. It was over, and she had failed. Somehow, Madara had escaped the jutsu that by all rights should have killed him, the one that she'd had the entire village working on for months.

She and Pain had known that Madara's goals didn't truly align with their own, and even before leaving for Konoha, she had been planning a way to take him down. The shinobi of Amegakure had been given a special, secret, above-S-class mission: to create enough explosive tags for ten minutes of continuous eruption. And Madara, the great genius, the scion of the Uchiha clan, had never seen it coming. Why would he? Why should he care about something so trivial as making explosive tags? That had been the true beauty of the plan, the fact that it could be enacted by even the most wet-behind-the-ears rookie genin. Drawing a seal on a slip of paper and funneling a little chakra into it was pathetically easy, and it was something ninja did all the time; thus, it was below notice. So what if the Academy students seemed to be studying nothing but the art of making tags? So what if every D-rank mission handed out to the genin included the words, "...then make some explosive tags and bring them to the quartermaster"? So what if chuunin and jounin were ordered to make as many tags as they could, supposedly for the building of a new defensive structure? Why should the most powerful ninja in the world concern himself with that?

He hadn't anticipated the move; she'd seen that in the widening of his one visible eye and heard it in his involuntary gasp as the walls of paper rose out of the sea around him. And yet, despite it being completely unexpected, despite the fact that the explosions had outlasted his intangibility by a margin of minutes (an eternity in a fight between shinobi), he had escaped.

He had escaped, and now he was going to get the Rinnegan.

Konan wanted to laugh, but her lungs were filling up with blood and she couldn't. _Don't you know anything, oh great Uchiha Madara?_ He had claimed that he had given Nagato the Rinnegan, and perhaps that was true, but the Rinnegan had never belonged to Madara in the first place. Maybe Nagato's Rinnegan had been donated, but Madara himself had only borrowed or stolen it. In truth, the Rinnegan belonged to no one but the Sage of the Six Paths, and _he_ had been a man who believed in peace and hope. Madara was trying to use the Sage's tools to destroy what the Sage had tried to accomplish...and anyone who'd been out of the Academy for more than a month could have told him that this was quite possibly the worst thing he could have done.

It was common for ninja to booby-trap scrolls or other special tools so that they couldn't be used by an enemy after their owner had fallen. Even genin knew enough to do this. Did Madara really believe that the man who had _invented_ ninjutsu, for crying out loud, wasn't capable of doing the same? _You want to use his tools for a purpose that's the exact opposite of what he intended? You might as well hold one of Orochimaru's snakes up to your nose and expect it not to bite you!_

Konan blinked. Something very strange was happening. Her vision was starting to become clearer again, and the wound in her chest no longer hurt. Tentatively, she sat up on the surface of the water and looked around. The village gleamed in the distance, and it was her familiar home, but there was something different about it. For one thing, it wasn't bathed in perpetual rain. The sun shone down brightly, and a rainbow hung over the tall skyscrapers. For another thing, the buildings looked whole and unscarred, not at all like a city that was still recovering from a brutal war. Turning her head, Konan looked towards the narrow peninsula that jutted out from one edge of the city, and her heart leapt with confused joy.

_It can't be..._

It couldn't be, and yet it was. There was the little red cottage where she, Yahiko, and Nagato had lived with Jiraiya for years. But the paint wasn't peeling from the constant damp, and the tin roof wasn't dented and battered. The place looked like it had just been built yesterday.

Konan got to her feet, and was surprised to find that it didn't hurt at all to walk across the water to where the cottage stood. She paused outside the door, sensing three chakra signatures inside. She closed one hand around the door handle and pulled it open.

Two figures sat at the table, while a third stood at the stove, peering into a pot from which an alarming amount of smoke was rising. The faces of the two boys at the table lit up when they saw her, and Konan suddenly found that she was very much shorter than she was used to being. She hadn't been this short since she was just a girl.

"Hey! Hey, old pervy teacher!" Yahiko called out to the white-haired man by the stove. "Look who finally showed up!"

Nagato's smile was more restrained, and his voice quieter, but he was no less joyful than his friend as he too called out to their mentor. "Konan's come home."


	14. Dreams

**Disclaimer:** Even after all this time, I still don't own _Naruto_ or any of its characters.

* * *

_14. Dreams_

Konan rested her head on Pain's chest, listening to the rhythmic drumming of rain on the roof. Pain's chest rose and fell slowly, indicating that Nagato was asleep. Although the bodies he inhabited had no life of their own, under Nagato's direction they maintained a semblance of that life.

When Yahiko died, he had left behind things that were precious to him, and which had then passed into Nagato and Konan's possession. A small, polished blue stone that Konan had given him the day they met. A ninjutsu-waterproofed piece of paper bearing the signatures of his parents. A collection of shuriken and kunai. But their most precious inheritance from Yahiko wasn't something that could be touched or held, and it was visible only with closed eyes.

The patter of the rain lulled Konan into sleep. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she joined Nagato in Yahiko's dream.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry I abandoned this fic for so long! I got the inspiration for this chapter from my recent rereading of _Sandman_, and from that new Coldplay song, "Paradise".


	15. YinYang

__**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own _Naruto_.

* * *

_15. Yin-Yang_

For the first time, Nagato extended his consciousness into the new Animal Realm body. Its eyelids fluttered open, and it sat up.

As soon as he stood, Nagato was struck by how alien this body seemed. Its center of gravity was lower than he was used to, and its smaller frame meant that it had less sheer power but greater speed and agility. Using a new body was always an adjustment, but the sense of difference was greater with this body than it had been with his others.

He searched through the closet for a set of standard-issue Akatsuki clothes that would fit Animal Realm. Shirt, pants, cloak, shoes...

Something was missing.

Konan looked up from where she was reading a scroll as God Realm approached with a cloak-wrapped Animal Realm in tow. "The implantation of the chakra rods seems to have been successful," she commented.

"Yes," said God Realm. The two Paths continued standing there, giving each other vaguely uncomfortable looks.

"Is something wrong?"

"There's something I need for this new body."

Konan waited for him to elaborate with an expectant look on her face.

"An item of clothing." God Realm shifted from one foot to the other.

Konan raised an eyebrow. Was the God of Amegakure, the Heir of the Sage of Six Paths..._embarrassed_?

"I have no other female bodies," God Realm said simply. "She has..." He pointed vaguely in the direction of Animal Realm's chest.

Konan sighed, and turned her Akatsuki cloak into a cloud of butterflies. They quickly disappeared up the stairs, towards where Konan's chambers were. After a couple of minutes, they returned, carrying among themselves a lavender bra. "Is this what you were looking for?"

God Realm reached out and tentatively took the bra from the butterfly swarm. He inspected it carefully, examining the hooks and the sliders on the straps. Then he turned to Animal Realm and held it up in front of her. He frowned, then turned it around and held it up again. "How does one..."

"Oh, just let me do it." Konan's tone of voice was exasperated, but there was a smile playing around her lips.

The sight of Konan pulling away the cloak that Animal Realm was wearing and matter-of-factly fixing the undergarment in place reminded Nagato of their youth. In the early days of their association, none of the three had really thought much about the difference between Konan and the two boys. She was simply their friend. But sometime during the years they'd spent under Jiraiya's tutelage, that had started to change. Yahiko and Nagato had both gotten much taller much faster than they would have believed possible, and Yahiko's voice had become deep and resonant. Those changes, however, weren't as unsettling as the sudden realization that Konan was _different_ from them.

_"What are __**those**__?" Yahiko peered at Konan's chest, pointing a suspicious finger at the bulges under her shirt._

_Konan's eyes narrowed, and the flower in her hair turned into a bird that promptly launched itself at Yahiko, driving him back._

_"Ow! I'm sorry!" Yahiko explained as he tried to evade the bird that was pecking at the top of his head. "I didn't mean it like that, I...OW!"_

This, of course, had required Jiraiya to attempt an explanation of puberty. Which had been interesting, to put it mildly.

_"As one of my student's friends used to say, 'It is the flowering of your burning, flaming passion of YOUTH!'"_

_"It's going to __**burn**__?" Yahiko asked, looking worried._

_"There are flames involved?" Konan asked, looking even more worried._

_"No! No, that was just a metaphor! A metaphor!" Jiraiya waved his arms wildly._

_"Is it like in that book of yours that you said we were too young to read but Yahiko read it anyway while you were asleep?" Nagato queried._

_"Hey! You promised not to tell sensei about that!"_

Now, he saw that Konan had gotten Animal Realm to sit down and was busy painting the new Path's nails. If it weren't for the fact that Animal Realm was essentially a reanimated corpse and Konan was a deadly ninja, the scene would have looked like a stereotypical girls' sleepover. "Did you ever miss this?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Miss what?"

"Having friends that were like you. Female friends, I mean," he clarified when Konan looked confused.

"Not really," she answered. "I don't think it ever really occurred to me that I _should_ miss having girlfriends, because I'd never had any in the first place."

God Realm and Animal Realm nodded in unison. "I haven't really gotten used to this yet," Animal Realm admitted. "I chose this body from the available ones because it was the strongest. I hadn't expected it to feel so strange."

Konan smirked. "If you think it feels strange _now_, wait until the next cycle."

God Realm tilted his head inquisitively for a moment. "Cycle?" Then the metaphorical light bulb went on over his head. "Oh. _Oh._"

Konan had to admit that the look of sheer, unadulterated terror on God Realm's normally impassive face was quite amusing.

"There has to be...some kind of medical ninjutsu or something. I mean, kunoichi control...that...so they don't get pregnant when they don't want to, don't they? It stands to reason that such a jutsu could also just be used to prevent..."

Konan smiled reassuringly. "Yes, there's a medical ninjutsu. I can teach it to you."

"Good. I need to learn it."

If Nagato hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have recognized the mischevious glint that alighted in Konan's eyes at that moment. "You know," she said, "with your chakra animating them, the Paths can have normal biological functions despite technically being dead. Hence the discussion we're having. With a female body, you could even bear children if you wanted."

The look of sheer, unadulterated terror intensified a thousandfold. "...I need to learn that medical ninjutsu _right now_."

Passing by in the hallway outside, Tobi paused as the sound of Konan's laughter and God Realm's exclamation that it "_isn't funny_, Konan!" echoed through the tower.

* * *

**A/N:** So, throughout this story, there's been some dark chapters and some fluffy chapters. I thought I'd like to do a humorous one, and the idea of the male Nagato having to adjust to being in a female body seemed like a perfect setup for one.


	16. The Present

__**Disclaimer:** I have not mysteriously been granted ownership of _Naruto_ or its characters since the previous chapter.

* * *

_16. The Present_

Everything has led up to this point.

The deaths of his parents, the years spent training under Jiraiya, Hanzou's betrayal and the loss of Yahiko, the formation of Akatsuki, all of it has been the prologue to this moment. Pain's Animal Realm hangs suspended in the air above Konoha, at the highest point of the arc into which Asura Realm threw him. From this high up, he can see the whole village. There are ninja on patrol, civilians going about their daily business, birds twittering in the bright sunlight. It's so unlike the perpetually overcast, war-torn village he comes from that he can't help feeling a spike of envy and bitterness.

There's still time to turn back. He could summon the bird underneath himself, soar away from Konoha and carry Konan and his other bodies back to Ame. He could lay aside his ambition to change the world and focus his godly attentions on his own city, on easing the pain of the people who've entrusted their homes and their lives to him.

But then what would become of everyone else? Don't the people of the Five Great Nations deserve a chance at peace as well? How many children like himself and Konan are there in Leaf or Stone or Mist, children who learned about loss and pain far too early? How many people are there like Tsunade (_like Konan_) who lost the one they loved? How many people like the jinchuuriki he hunts (_like him_), growing up without parents? How many people like that jinchuuriki's sensei (_like him again, like her_), enduring the memory of a friend who died right before their eyes? There isn't even a guarantee that his own people will be safe if he withdraws. After all, the wars between the Great Nations have spilled over into his own country before, and there's no reason to think history won't repeat itself if nothing is done.

It would be easier to turn back, but gods don't have the luxury of doing only what's easy.

Through his shared sight with the other bodies, he sees Konan's upturned face. Her eyes are fixed on him, as they've always been, and there is absolute trust on her face.

And all the grandiose reasons melt away, and he knows that he's doing this for the same reason that he's done pretty much everything else since he was about twelve.

_For her._

The moment passes, and he feels the crackle of chakra over his skin as he descends through the protective barrier around the village. He lands on a rooftop and summons the others.

The invasion of Konoha has begun.

* * *

**A/N:** I've settled on the idea of doing 20 chapters for this story, so there are four left after this one.


	17. Purity

**Disclaimer:** As time passes, I continue to not own _Naruto_.

* * *

_17. Purity_

Konan called her paper back, and watched the white butterflies swirl around her. Many of them had streaks or splotches of red along the edges of their wings, which Konan had made razor-sharp for the battle.

When she was a little girl, someone had told her that angels were always portrayed with white wings to represent their purity. She'd remembered that the first time she unfurled her paper wings and soared up into the sky. Maybe her white wings represented the purity of her purpose, her devotion to her people and her god, her determination to improve her home.

But it was impossible for her wings to _stay_ white. Whenever she went into battle, they always got splashed with blood. And at the same time, she was dismayed to find that her reasons for fighting were no longer solely postive. She still wanted to change Amegakure for the better and protect its people...but she also wanted to make Hanzou and his followers pay for Yahiko's death.

The butterflies fused, merging into a pair of great wings that spread out for nearly five feet to either side of Konan's body. She frowned when she saw that they were as much red as white.

"What's wrong?" Pain, in his God Realm body, had come out onto the roof. "Are you injured?"

"No," she said. "None of the blood is mine." She didn't elaborate, but Pain seemed to know what was bothering her anyway.

"No one can remain innocent forever," he told her. "Not if they want to make a difference, anyway. You're a shinobi, and that's nothing to be ashamed of." He ran his fingers along the top edge of one of her red-streaked wings. "This is as much a part of growing up," he said, placing his hand low on her torso, just under the belly button, "as this. You can no more go back to being a civilian than you can go back to being a little girl again."

"What about an angel? Can I go back to being an angel, now that my wings are stained like this?"

Konan was staring down at the floor, but Pain placed two fingers under her chin and gently brought her head up so she was looking him in the eyes. "You never _stopped_ being one."

* * *

**A/N:** I can't believe I haven't written anything for this story since last year! Anyway, here's the latest chapter, I hope you all like it.


	18. Three

_18. Three_

She had told Yahiko she loved him once, shortly before he died. She had been reluctant to speak of her feelings for him, as though saying the words out loud would somehow make the fact more real. She'd been afraid that admitting she saw Yahiko as more than a friend would destroy what the three of them had. It would make her relationship with Yahiko different from the one she shared with Nagato, and set one of them above the other.

Nevertheless, she'd told him in the end, whispering the words in a voice that was barely audible and making him promise not to tell Nagato what she'd said.

"What do you mean?" he had asked. "Why don't you want Nagato to know?" He left unsaid that Nagato probably knew anyway. Ninja were, after all, skilled at observing other people.

"It's because..." She paused, trying to find a way to explain herself. "We've always been equal, all three of us. Each of us cares for the other two equally. But if I love you as...if I love you like this...but not Nagato, then I'm not caring for the two of you equally anymore."

Yahiko reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, seemingly lost in thought. "Are you sure that's true? Are you sure that you don't love Nagato the same way you love me?"

"What?" Konan sat up abruptly. "No! I would never...I mean, I'm not the type to...you know I wouldn't go behind your back or anything, Yahiko."

Yahiko laughed. "I know that! I'm not accusing you of anything bad, Konan. I just mean, are you sure you don't feel the same way about him that you feel about me?"

Konan ducked her head, then said in a small voice, "Would you be mad if I did?"

Yahiko tilted her face up so that she met his gaze. "Konan, I love you too, and I could never make you choose between the two of us. No, I wouldn't be mad."

Very slowly, she answered his previous question with a nod.

Yahiko had died the next day.

She never did tell Nagato that she loved him. But Nagato is a ninja, and ninja are skilled at observing other people, so she thinks he knows that she has always loved both him and Yahiko.

She thinks he knows that she _still_ loves both him and Yahiko.

And in the same way, she knows that both of them have always loved her.

Sometimes Nagato likes to say that his greatest triumph came out of his greatest tragedy. Yahiko's death was the single most painful experience of his life, even worse than losing his parents, certainly worse than the loss of the various subordiantes and comrades who've fallen along the way. But it also allowed him to tap into reserves of power he hadn't even known he possessed, a power that swept Hanzou and his minions away like so much chaff.

In much the same way, Konan thinks that her greatest love came out of her greatest despair. Her heart broke when Yahiko died, and for a long time she thought that no force on earth would ever be able to put the pieces back together. At first, she couldn't even look at Pain without bursting into tears. Over time, though, the differences between Yahiko and Pain made themselves felt. Pain might have Yahiko's body, but the soul and mind that animated it were Nagato's. As she came to acknowledge that disparity, it became less heart-wrenching to be in Pain's presence. Eventually, she even saw Pain as a symbol of hope, because Yahiko's dream lived on through him.

And slowly, ever so slowly, her acceptance of Pain transformed into something more. Her feelings for Yahiko and for Nagato had always been in competition, so that she hesitated to act on one for fear of crushing the other. Even after Yahiko's death, she didn't confide in Nagato about how she'd felt about him. Now, she suddenly found that her feelings for the two men were no longer set against each other, because the two men had become one.

So she no longer feels the need to hide her emotions from Nagato. They can be what she had always hoped they would be.

Yahiko's body and Nagato's soul. They are together, the three of them, thanks to this creation called Pain.


	19. Freedom

**Disclaimer:** Nope, my name still isn't Masashi Kishimoto.

* * *

_19. Freedom_

Itachi doesn't like reporting to Pain and Konan.

It's not just because he's concerned that one of them might see through his carefully crafted disguise. His experience in ANBU has made Itachi very good at burying his true feelings so deeply that even a Hyuuga wouldn't be able to see them.

The real problem is that they remind him too much of his parents.

Pain is stern and unyielding, ruling the Akatsuki with the proverbial iron fist. His mouth never cracks a smile, and there's never so much as a single glint of humor in his eerily-ringed eyes. His deep voice cuts through Hidan's complaining, Sasori and Deidara's bickering, and Kisame's laughter with ease. The way he takes charge of this fractious, prideful bunch of criminals reminds Itachi of his father leading Police Force meetings.

Konan seems content to remain in Pain's shadow, a quiet presence who rarely offers her own opinion. For that reason, the other Akatsuki members tend to underestimate her, assuming she's nothing more than Pain's lover. Itachi knows better, though. He can see her carefully watching everyone, storing away every detail of their postures, their facial expressions, the tones of their voices, maybe even the nuances of their chakra. He's sure she can tell who disapproves of a certain plan, who holds a grudge against someone else, who's likely to grow impatient and do something stupid. She'll report all these findings to Pain later, when they're alone. Just as, before the meeting, he told her what his plans were and accepted any suggestions she might have for improving them. He might have even _asked_ her for advice, something he would never do with any of the others. Konan is Pain's sole confidante, and Itachi knows it was the same way with Fugaku and Mikoto. During his meetings with the Hokage and councilors, they all spoke about Fugaku. What had prompted Fugaku to lead the Uchiha in preparations for a coup? What concessions might Fugaku accept to call off the plan? Could Fugaku be trusted to abide by any agreement that might be reached? No one ever mentioned Mikoto, but Itachi knew that his father would never have launched his plan in the first place if she had said it was a bad idea.

The worst part, the thing that keeps him awake and wandering the halls of their base long after the others have gone to sleep, is that Pain and Konan are _winning_.

A large part of the reason he had gone through with the Massacre was that he had believed the Uchihas' planned rebellion to be a hopeless cause. Even as strong as they were, they couldn't hope to prevail against an entire Hidden Village. Most of the people he'd killed would have died anyway, along with many others.

And it wasn't as if he hadn't considered the possibility that he might be wrong. Uchiha Itachi did nothing lightly, even something as simple as ordering dinner at a restaurant, so of course he wouldn't make such a momentous decision without a great deal of thought and analysis. He had considered every conceivable permutation on the events that would be involved in the uprising. What if some of the Uchiha awakened the Mangekyou Sharingan in the midst of the fighting, as had happened during many historical battles? What if some of the other Advanced Bloodline clans, perhaps feeling that those with genetic abilities had a right to greater status, took the Uchihas' side? What if he himself fought alongside his kinsmen? All of his calculations had given him the same result: the revolution was doomed.

Yet here he is in Amegakure, watching a similar story unfold, with exactly opposite results to what he would have expected.

Nagato's Rinnegan has a lot to do with it, of course. Things might have gone differently if he hadn't linked to the Gedo Mazou statue and created the Six Paths of Pain. But isn't that just analagous to the "what if some of the Uchiha awaken the Mangekyou during the coup?" scenario?

Watching Pain and Konan cut a bloody swath through Hanzou's men (often quite literally) has forced Itachi to rethink the assumptions he made about his clan's nascent uprising. The question that haunts him is a simple one: could they have won?

For a while, he's able to push the question aside by reminding himself that, even if the Uchiha _had_ been victorious, such a triumph would not have come without a price. However, that only replaces his previous question with an equally troublesome one: why do Pain and Konan continue to fight?

He asks her one night when they're both restless and wakeful. He's crossing a bridge over one of Amegakure's many canals when he glances up to see a flock of paper birds flying overhead. They wheel around and drift down in front of him, gradually merging into a humanoid shape.

"Good evening, Itachi-san."

"Good evening."

"Trouble sleeping?"

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I've suffered from occasional insomnia since I was a child."

"And what thoughts are keeping you up tonight?"

"As a matter of fact, I was thinking about you."

Konan sighs. Itachi can tell that she's preparing to launch into her well-rehearsed "My only romantic interest is in Pain-sama" speech.

He saves her the trouble by amending, "More specifically, I was thinking about the rebellion you and Pain-sama have embarked on here in the Rain Village."

"You're concerned about our odds of winning?"

"No. I think your odds are quite good. But what about the price? Don't you ever wonder if it's too high?"

"I think it's a pointless question."

"What do you mean?"

"There's only one price that _can_ be paid for freedom. It's no use complaining that the cost is too high; you either pay it or you don't get to be free."

She dissolves once more into her flock of birds, which momentarily surround him and then are gone.

There are some sights, some sounds, that can pierce through Itachi's meticulously constructed facade like a spear through light armor. Konan's words fall into this category, because they're almost an exact echo of words from a lifetime (three years) ago, when he still had a family.

_"You know that if our clan goes through with this, you might die?"_

_"I know."_

_"You know you'll have to kill people? Maybe people you like? Acquaintances, even friends?"  
_

_"I know."_

_"And you don't think that price is too high?"_

_She pulls a kunai out of her holster and wraps her hand lightly around the blade. She holds the weapon up in front of his face, the sunlight glinting off the blood. "Sometimes this is the only coin you can buy freedom or justice with. Either pay up or shut up and be content with your lot."_

Someone's sprayed graffiti on the wall across the street, a simple design of Pain's ringed eyes. Itachi stares at them, lost in thoughts of the man who possesses them and the woman he calls his angel. _It would surely be better for the people of this country for you to win your fight. But there's a part of me that hopes you lose, because if you win, what does that mean about the choices I've made? _

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**A/N:** Sorry for the super-long hiatus on this, but I'm back! And I have an idea for what the last chapter of this story's going to be about, so hopefully that will be up without too much of a delay.


	20. Loyalty

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto anymore than I did in Chapter 1.

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_20. Loyalty_

"So, my name is a precious memento of him! I can't just give up and stomp on this memento! I will become the Hokage! And I'll make sure there's peace for Amegakure too! Believe in me!"

He wants to. He really does. He wants to believe that there can be a permanent peace, a _true_ peace, not the approximation he'd meant to impose through fear and raw power. But everything he's done for the past ten years has been based on the assumption that true peace is a pipe dream. For the sake of his cause, he'd desecrated the body of his best friend, turned his lover into a cold-blooded killer, snuffed out hundreds of lives.

There had been times when he'd questioned whether there might be another way. Whenever those questions arose in his mind, he'd violently shoved them back down. They were only distractions, the remnants of the naive child he'd been before he took the name of Pain. At least that's what he'd told himself.

Now, though, he's forced to conclude that there was another reason he'd been unwilling to consider the possibility that his chosen course of action might be misguided. If he accepted that premise, it would mean that everything he's already done has been for nothing.

_If I believe in him, and in the true peace that he and Jiraiya-sensei believed in, what will I have left? My purpose will have been faulty, I'll have been leading Amegakure down the wrong path all this time, and peace will be no closer than it was when I started!_

He can feel chakra thrumming all around him, making the fine hairs on his arms stand on end. The layers of paper that form their hiding place rustle, a signal from Konan that she's ready to shred the boy into a million pieces at a word from him.

And there is his answer.

_If I admit that I've been wrong for all these years, what will I have left?_

Her. He'll have her.

From that first moment when she handed him a piece of bread, Konan has always been by his side. She's followed him into battle, into danger, into sorrow, into pain.

She's followed him into the most powerful ninja village on the planet, and she shows no sign of leaving now. Even if he says, "We were wrong; we need to start over," she'll still be there.

"Nagato..."

She looks worried, and he wonders if the same thoughts have been going through her head. Has she too been wondering what she'll be left with if she gives up the goal she's dedicated herself to since that long-ago day when the three of them became two?

_Me. You'll be left with me. And I'll fix it for you. I'll take the first step on a new path, one that __**will**__ lead to real peace._

"I couldn't believe in what Jiraiya believed in. Or in the man himself. But you chose a different path. In you, I see a different future. I will believe in you, Uzumaki Naruto."

_I will believe in you because I believe in her._

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**A/N:** Well, here it is: the last chapter. It's taken me two years to write this fic, and I've really enjoyed it. I hope all of you enjoyed it too.


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